


Isolation Chamber

by TrishaCollins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I needed more Garrison time, James is bad at taking care of himself, M/M, Unnamed background characters deserve love too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:32:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: James is set on being the best pilot he can. But sitting in the weird grey area at the top, it's hard not to feel occasionally lonely.





	Isolation Chamber

The fact of the matter was that he couldn’t afford the luxury of a partner. There were too many pieces at play and his team to consider. Partnering with someone would mean that there was another voice involved, someone he needed to take care of. 

He didn’t have time for that. But there were still itches that needed to be scratched, and at least for now a number of people with willing…fingers.

Petril made a lewd noise, rocking back into him, head thrown back and mouth open. 

The showers were good for this, and Petril was one of his more frequent scratches. They had a weird understanding, something that bordered weirdly close to a friendship, but Petril was in comm specs, and he was a pilot, and even if he was willing to drift over the line and accept a partner, Petril could never be it. 

But for now? For this? He licked at a bead of sweat on the back of Petril’s neck, then bit into the meat of his shoulder, tongue laving against the warm, dark skin. “Fuck, you take it so good.” 

Petril laughed, one arm snaking up to wrap around his neck, the other braced against the wall for leverage. “You remembered the lube this time.” 

He snorted, dragging Petril back into his body with a sharp gesture. “I can’t think of everything.”

“Meathead pilots never think of any- oooo, yes, James, there.” 

He grinned against Petril’s throat, gripping his hips as he thrust into him, delighting in the way their bodies melded. 

Petril only lasted a few more thrusts, splattering his contribution onto his stomach, head thrown back to rest against his shoulder.

God, he was beautiful. He caught him in a messy kiss, upside down, getting water in his mouth as he thrust into him. 

The showers at least made clean up easy. 

“Mhm. I’ve got to watch your schedule more often. This is the best I’ve felt in weeks.” Petril offered, toweling his hair dry once they had finished. 

“What schedule? If Holt doesn’t want us for testing, Sanda wants us for something.” He pulled up uniform pants up still damp legs, grimacing when they stuck to him. 

“The entire weight of the world.” Petril offered, ambling over to lean against him. 

“That’s Holt, with his Atlas.” He rolled his eyes and pulled away, putting his shirt on. He liked the warmth of another body against his, but he couldn’t afford it. He knew Kinkade and Rezavi both had people they went to when the isolation got to be too much, Lief had never been interested in anything that had to do with other people being in her space, so he imagined she probably kept plants or plotted prime numbers. He liked Petril. He liked the others he sought out when he needed a release. But that was all he could allow them to be.

“You know, James. You need to relax more often.” Petril had taken his rejection in stride, returning to his dressing. 

“I relax plenty. There is a war going on, you know.” He raked his fingers through his hair, and caught the look Petril gave him. It made him blush, even though they had just fucked in the shower. “What?”

“You’re handsome.” Petril shrugged. “I like looking at you. Digging my nails into your shoulders so whoever you find for this next knows I was there. We could try a bed sometime.”

He grimaced and looked away. 

“Too intimate, huh?” Petril sighed. “You don’t need to be the lone wolf hero, James. You can have people. You could have me if you wanted.” 

“I’m not looking for commitment.” He retorted. “Just a quick…” He trailed off.

“Just a quick screw in the shower to remind yourself that you’re alive before you go back out and almost die. I know.” Petril sat down on the bench across from him. “Have you talked to your handler about this?”

“I’m not talking to Veronica about my sex life.” He sat down, the warm fuzzy feeling that normally lasted at least a day already dissipating. He should have just left and let Petril clean up, not lingered and talked. 

Petril laughed. “Well, I mean, you could. But I meant more this idea you have that you need to isolate yourself to be effective.”

“I’m not isolating myself.”

Petril looked at him, head tilting to the side, damp hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. “Sure. But you are preventing attachment with anyone but your squad and Veronica.”

“That’s how it needs to work. I can’t afford any distractions.” He reached for his boots, but Petril got there first, putting his socks on his feet, and then putting on his boots. 

“Everyone needs distractions, James.” Petril laced the boots, then rested his hands loosely on his knee. “That’s why you seek me and whoever else is on your list out. It keeps everything else from becoming too much.” 

He grunted in response. 

Petril smiled, gave his knee a squeeze, and leaned forward to kiss him. “Next time, at least a couch.”

“Sure.” He watched the man go, wondering if he’d let there be a next time. Petril was getting to close to slipping under his guard. 

He needed to stay sharp.


End file.
